Alleged Frequency
by EAnnajeRETURNS
Summary: It was all about Hermione. Hermione was the one he needed to get through to. In an ironic twist of fate, Sirius realized that she was going to become his salvation once again. Only this time, he was determined to unveil all the secrets he had been hiding behind.
1. Twist of a Glitch

**A/N: **_Cover image is by oprisco of Deviantart fame :) Thank you for your beautiful work! Welcome to another twisted HP dalliance of mine. These chapters will be short, not long as ADSM (only one of a kind thing there lol) and dedicated to one my most adored pairings. Hope you enjoy the mystery and the suspense of soon to be answered questions...;)_

**Disclaimer: **_I'll only say this once ladies and gents. J.K Rowling is a bloody genius. We all know and acknowledge this. Now that it's been said, on to the story!_

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**Chapter 1**

**Twist of a Glitch**

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Bellatrix laughed as she hexed him, as she _fucking_ hexed him into another dimension, literally. He felt the darkness encroach on his senses, constrict his breathing and threaten to swallow him whole. But Harry's scream brought him back to the present, _Lily's eyes, _in disbelief. He began to smile, ready to shove off Harry's fears. Did his godson really think he could let his mad cousin get the better of him?

Bella and he used to practice dark curses on one another as children, the same hexes and jinxes their twisted parents poisoned their minds with.

He started to open his mouth to laugh and throw back something equally horrifying at his darkly beautiful yet psychotic cousin. But the whispers that had echoed in the chamber grew louder and echoed, soothed his aching limbs. And he watched Harry cry out in agony as his body was ripped from this world and into the next. A force, beyond their control was sucking him down, down further still.

In this place, the curse had no effect over him. He was standing in the odd amphitheater-styled structure the arch had been placed within. In fact, after falling through the Veil, he had come out on the other side to find an empty, sepia toned room.

_So this is what death looks like? Prongs, mate, where's the bints and beer?_

He couldn't help but laugh at his own dark humor, anything to keep from losing it. Because inside he was screaming with Harry, desperate to return to his godson's side.

_Salazar's bloody loins, they're just children! _

He wasn't surprised to learn his godson had rushed off recklessly into a trap. But he had been delighted, eager to join in the fight to come. His wand hand had been twitching for decades, after all, imagining all those delightful curses that would spill from his lips when he got out of Azkaban. Most of them were aimed at Wormtail, but any Death Eater would suffice.

Sirius tried to turn around to better gauge the purgatory he seemed trapped within, only to be frozen back into place. Echoes of voices filled his mind, only this time they came from the other side of the Veil, back in the land of the living.

_Maybe this is hell?_ he briefly thought. His one condolence in death would be to see James and Lily again, _his family._

He wasn't surprised when the whispers just outside his hearing suddenly blended and compressed into one to welcome him. He had been expecting something of the sort.

"**Welcome Sirius Orion Black.**"

_Just get bloody on with it!_

_"_**You have come to us early. We were not expecting your arrival for another sixty years.**"

"You and me both," he heard his voice answer and grinned. At least something was working properly in this hellhole.

The voices paused, as though in thought, before continuing. "**Much is at stake in this dark time, for our world. There are many dangers the Savior must face alone. Without you, he is vulnerable...lost...**"

Sirius wondered where this eerie calm had come from. He didn't want to feel calm. He wanted to fight his way out of this place until he returned to Harry's side, until he found a way to damn them all to hell for daring to touch his godson.

Grunting out his next words, he managed, "What are you getting at? I'm dead already, aren't I? And by the way, I have a few questions about that. Where are my best mates, James and Lily? I swear on Merlin's tatty knickers I'll crawl right back out of this place if you don't at least offer me some Firewhisky. I need a drink...I _need_ to get the _fuck_ out of here..." His voice faded, trailed off at the end as a sob racked his chest. Squeezing his eyes shut, he forced the emotions back down.

_Too many people said you were mental before Azkaban, mate. Keep it together, Padfoot..._

Sirius had often wondered why his conscience tended to sound like Prongs, after all these years...

The Veil had been silent for some time. What it said next surprised him.

"**What would you be willing to sacrifice, to reclaim what evil has stolen from you, Sirius Orion Black?"****  
**

Sirius laughed, a short, roughened edgy bark, before steeling his nerves. He didn't have a clue in hell why he was stuck in this place, talking to a bloody Veil. A part of him was weary, had given up the night James and Lily were murdered. But Harry was out there somewhere, having to deal with a psychopathic Dark Wizard alone. He would have help, but he would lose himself in this battle one day. This was what Sirius was hoping to prevent from happening to his godson. He knew what happened to people who were so scarred by war they were unable to move on. He was one of them.

So, with a slightly sadistic smirk, he looked at that rippling, sepia-toned Veil and answered, "_Everything_."

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**Review: Question 1: How wise is it to make a deal with talking arches? ;)**


	2. Inlaid With Gold

**A/N:** _I'm writing this one as it comes to me and in the spare moments I can find. (very few and in between lol. In writing this story it took me a few minutes to think of something I haven't already basically read with this couple lol_

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**Chapter 2**

**Inlaid With Gold**

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En route to Number 24, Grimmauld Place, _the pit of hell, _Sirius had been forced to pause against the window of a closed shop. Coincidentally, the moon shone clearly enough that he was able to glimpse a cast of his reflection on the glassy surface. The sight that met his eyes was far different than he had expected.

Sirius could scarcely believe it when his heart started beating again. He wasn't aware of the fact it had stopped until it started pounding loudly in his ears. After this other things began to change. His surroundings blurred and then a sucking, pulling sensation jerked his body from one location to another. Much like Apparating, Sirius heard the faint _pop _and was confused to find himself not two blocks away from his family home.

His body hurt like hell, like Bella's curse had just struck him seconds ago. But the way he felt wasn't so much cursed induced, but the way he used to feel at Hogwarts. When he and James played Quidditch all weekend long, until their muscles simply refused to function properly for at least a day after.

He was fully clothed, _thank Merlin_, he thought, and remarkably, dressed in the same clothing he fell through the arch in.

_Not that I have any problem with going starkers occasionally..._

He had been running for a few minutes, but the journey seemed to take forever. Even with his wand, Sirius hadn't known what time he had been dropped down into and so marked possible Apparation off his to-do list. Technically he was top priority on the Ministry's most-wanted line up. Thus, his aching limbs and baited breath. He blamed his weariness from his age. Even Sirius admitted, only to himself of course, that he was no longer a strapping twenty-two.

But the face that looked back at him in the window of the Muggle shop, was _not_ thirty-eight. "What the hell?" he murmured, bringing a hand to touch his smooth, stubble free cheek. Then he grinned and glanced up at the stars. Tipping his fingers to the heavens, he said, "Thanks mate. I'll do whatever you bloody want if you let me keep this face."

Shadows rushed past him, and his humor was immediately replaced by vigilance. Gray eyes wary, he gripped his wand and watched the homeless Muggles dart into a back alley across the street.

_Keep moving Pads, you stupid git! You've got a job to do._

Running was easier after he realized he looked fifteen years younger than his former self. Dead or not, he was Sirius Black again, not some washed up drunk trying to drown his woes. He didn't pause to consider that the Veil had made him look younger for a distinct purpose...

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Without a clue of exactly _when_ the Veil had dropped him back to life, Sirius approached the wards masking his home with caution. For hours he simply watched. Covered in disillusionment charms, he was able to see Wizards coming and going. Yet one particular arrival caught his attention, above the others.

The ones who had left no less than an hour before had returned, this time, with a wide eyed brunette teenage Witch in their company. She clutched her satchel and eyed the gloomy home with tears in her eyes. Yet just when the tears threatened to escape her golden eyes, her determined chin squared and the bravery that made her a lioness resurfaced.

Sirius gasped as the door opened and his other self appeared.

Hermione gripped her bag and glanced at the silent streets around them. Sirius froze when her eyes lingered briefly over his hiding place. A line appeared between her brows and a pensive expression crossed her features. For one infinitely brief yet long moment, Sirius felt something shift inside him.

He was brought back to that moment, years ago...

_She appeared like a Valkyrie, like a goddess come to rescue him atop the Hippogriff's back. His godson was with her, but Sirius knew it was her brilliance that had hatched this plan. James had never been the brains of their crew. That had been Remus, he thought with a twinge of regret. _

_But this Witch, this glorious, young child, held onto him in terror as they plummeted from the castle towers. And inexplicably, as he laughed and she screamed, Sirius knew he had never felt so alive..._

The moment was broken when she tore her gaze from him and walked up the steps to Grimmauld Place. Sirius was shaken as he recalled the previous summer of his godson's 5th year. Hermione arrived first, earlier than the Weasley's and Harry. Since Voldemort's secret return, Muggles had been going missing again. All of them were in danger, Hermione most of all.

Sirius had always had a soft place for this Witch. He loved to aggravate and challenge her know-it-all sensibilities because they both craved the distraction. He hadn't been able to bring himself to tell Remus what happened those first few days, of the previous summer.

Now he wondered if he ever would have the chance.

Instantly he understood the Veil's purpose in bringing his ghost here. Harry was too shaken from the Diggory boy's death and the Order was going mad trying to focus their attentions everywhere and anywhere the Death Eaters might be striking next. Hermione was beyond this. She had seen through him from the start with her young, gold flecked eyes. He could no sooner go to himself and expect a drunken idiot to listen.

It was all about Hermione. Hermione was the one he needed to get through to. In an ironic twist of fate, Sirius realized that she was going to become his salvation once again. Only this time, he was determined to unveil all the secrets he had been hiding behind.

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**Review: Question 2: Would you keep your real feelings a secret, even if other people thought they were wrong?**


	3. Beaten But Not Broken

**Chapter 3**

**Beaten But Not Broken**

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Sirius looked much better than the last time Hermione Granger had seen him. Over the summer he must have decided basic hygiene was necessary for others to tolerate his presence. Though no one had blamed him, what with Azkaban and living half of his time after as Snuffles.

She didn't know what she expected when she first arrived at Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Certainly she expected the ancient Pureblood home to be riddled with dark things. The Blacks had been solid supporters of _You-Know-Who, _after all. With her thoughts and emotions a jumbled mess in her head, she was struggling to fight back the tears, worrying over the parents she left behind.

_Please let the wards hold_ _fast..._

Although she was almost sixteen years old and only starting her fifth year at Hogwarts, Hermione felt far older after this last summer. Without being able to owl Harry or Ron, she had felt cruelly cut off from the Wizarding World, a maddening idea after the Triwizard fiasco last spring. Though she often chose to hide behind books and logic and her determined chin, the truth was she was frightened for _herself_. It wasn't just the fact she might lose her parents or her closest friends, but they would leave her vulnerable and totally alone. Without them, her life at Hogwarts and in the world she was tied to, would become a living hell.

_Before the troll incident during the Halloween Feast, it was hell..._

She could admit this now. Hermione had been making a staunch effort at honesty. With this new creed in mind, she also was determined to throw herself into doing whatever it took to bring V-V_oldemort_ down.

There was a moment, just after the clanging doorbell rang out from Number 12, and before Sirius Black crowded the door with a haggard look in his eyes, when she felt the brush of magic tingle at the corner of her senses.

Hermione had never been into Divination or any subject that relied on faith instead of facts. It simply wasn't logical. She didn't count herself to be nearly as powerful as Harry, or as tactically brave as Ron, but she had a brain that could think better than all of them. What she felt just then went beyond cleverness.

For the first time since she could recall, she felt the tendrils of someone else's _magic_ brush against her own and jolted at the unexpected rush of feeling that accompanied it.

_What the hell?_

But the Order, waiting for her to enter, and Sirius Black looming above, seemed eager to usher her on through.

_Of course you stupid twat, they've other things to do..._

The moment passed, her attention diverted, but after a night like she had been having, she wouldn't soon forget it either.

"Welcome to the mouth of hell, love," Sirius spoke gruffly as he leaned over her, propping up an arm over her head to regain his balance. The sharp scent of Firewhisky coated his breath.

"Don't be a fool, Black," growled Mad-Eye Moody, trudging up behind her.

Sirius bowed his head so his dark curls fell over his eyes, then twisted to follow Hermione's entrance. She paused within the entry hall, taking in briefly the gas lamps and grand chandelier coated in cobwebs, the peeling wallpaper and desperate gloom that coated the house like a fine layer of ash. Though she tried to focus on her surroundings, she couldn't ignore the glassy-eyed escaped convict watching over her with keen interest.

The rest of the Order members who had escorted her shuffled past.

Remus Lupin, her former professor and another witness of the events that transpired _that year, _offered her an apologetic look before appraising his best friend. "Clean yourself up, Padfoot. You're frightening her."

"Lupin! Come, we have no time to dally over such trivial matters," Moody called from the stairs climbing up against the end of the hall. Remus sighed and shook his head before taking the stair two at a time.

The pink haired Metamorphmagus that was the other part of her escort party, tripped over an umbrella holder on her way and glanced at them as she righted herself with a grin. "Wotcher, Sirius."

Hermione squinted then gasped, appalled when she realized the umbrella stand was actually a troll's foot. "How barbaric..."she whispered vehemently.

"My great-grandfather's pride and joy, actually."

Sirius had appeared behind her silently and without her knowledge, so she jumped, clutching her satchel closer to her chest.

"He slaughtered the troll and took it's leg. We were the only house that had one until it became a fashion trend," he added with a smirk.

Berating herself for letting him get the better of her, Hermione closed her eyes briefly before twisting to face him. Sirius stood in her personal space, one hand outstretched to clutch the wall, the other holding a half drunk bottle at his side. She watched as his eyes dilated, a slight frown marring his surprisingly handsome features.

"Well, it's still barbaric," she announced, standing as tall as she could muster, chin lifted in defiance.

He was staring at her in that way, again, she realized with a twinge of fear. Hermione _hated_ when he looked at her in that special way, the way he had after they saved his life using her time turner, when she passed him food in the cave during fourth year and just now again. He looked at her like he had never seen anything quite like her before. This only made her more determined to prove she wasn't a little girl anymore. She would be sixteen soon, but with everything they had been through and the effects of the time turner, she might as well be twenty-six.

Slowly, his dark, shadow dipped eyes regarding her, he lifted the dark bottle and took a languid sip, before replying, "And you've grown up Mione."

All at once, with those few words the air was knocked from her lungs and her eyes widened. For once she didn't berate him because he used that abhorrent nickname. On his lips it sounded like a caress and as they looked at one another in the dim light of his cursed home, she realized, at a glance, he understood her.

He had been through hell and realized she was truly standing at its mouth at nearly sixteen, with no other choice but to forge ahead.

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**Review: Question 3- Which would you choose, happiness or honor?**


	4. Moonlit Tryst

**Chapter 4**

**Moonlit Tryst**

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Sirius had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to enter Grimmauld Place for days. He was tired of stealing food from the Muggle neighbors and _fucking_ sick of the Order never giving him a moment's respite. Because every time he was ready to spring and enter his own _bloody home_, Moody or some other greasy git showed up with a mad eye on the premisis.

He was growing desperate to carry out his mission before Harry and the others arrived. And privately, a little worried that if he didn't hurry up the Veil might take away his renewed youth again. This wouldn't do, not at all.

The answer to his troubles came by way of Hermione, of course. She exited the back door and darted into the ruined garden his dragon of a mum once kept with tears in her eyes and hands over her face. Then, to his curiosity, she began to wave her wand silently through the air, until a flutter of winged birds appearing from midair and dancing around her head.

_Silent spells? She really did keep a lot from Harry and Ron..._

He was watching from the neighbor's yard, only able to glimpse this private scene because of the shitty pure blood running in his veins. No matter how many different shades he had tried to paint himself with over the years, he was still a Black.

_Wards must be having a field day trying to figure out why there are two Sirius's running around the place..._

Testing a reckless theory he had, Sirius crouched low and leaped through the air, over the fence and promptly crashed into the bloody bushes.

_You're a fuckin' idiot!_

__Righting himself was nigh to impossible afterward and the fresh pain in his leg made him lose his concentration.

Hermione's birds had disappeared, spell broken and wand at the ready as she jumped up from the steps and rushed into the darkness. "Who's there?" she said in a voice that was convincingly fierce.

Sirius tried to scramble up on his four feet, only to find he was no longer Padfoot, but his own dead self. The clothes he had fallen through the Veil in days before were still on his person, and truthfully a bit tight with his younger, broader chest. But he had no intention of wearing the clothes of a dead Wizard now. He found a pair of ripped jeans and some odd black printed T-shirt from the Muggle boy down the street. Fortunately his neighbor also owned a motorbike.

_Shitty one at that, but we can't all claim perfection_.

So he was more than happy to steal the man's boots and jacket as well. It made for a good disguise in a run-down Muggle neighborhood. But the fact he managed to fall into a Wizard's heavily warded back yard might have been more than a little suspicious.

_Never were good at thinking things, through, were we, Prongs?_

He was reaching for his back pocket and the wand he had stashed there before his transformation, but Hermione got to him first.

"Stop right there," she said in a steely voice. If he didn't know her any better he might not have heard the faint tremble behind her threat.

Sirius blinked up at the light now shining in his face, "Ah! Shit! Put that thing out, will you, Hermione?"

"Wh-what did you just say?" She shifted on her slippered feet, pushed her wild mane of curls out of her face again and leaned further into the bushes. He could see the tell in her shoulders. She wanted to turn but wasn't about to turn her back on a potential enemy.

Sirius sighed and sank onto his arse, leaning his head so it rested on the poke iron gate and decided it was better not to pull out a wand just yet.

_Know when to play your cards, Pads..._

__Groaning over his sore leg, he finally answered, "I said, that light is going to alert everyone in that _rotting tomb _of a manor that you're out here, with a stranger, I might add. And I don't know about you, but I'd rather keep this between us."

Hermione blinked, then, wordlessly he might add, dimmed the light so he could make out her reddened eyes. "What are you doing here?" she asked. "I saw something jump over the fence. That's impossible, that you were able to jump through those wards."

Sirius rolled his eyes, leaning his elbows on his knees and hung his head in his hands. "Yeah, unless I was the one who made them, love. Think about it. What exactly did you see jump over that fence?"

Hermione frowned, her brow drawing together in that adorable way of hers. He knew he shouldn't be thinking such thoughts. She was young enough to be his daughter and he wasn't a sick pervert. But ever since she saved his life, there had been this odd connection between them. And over last summer, _this summer_, he found himself drawn to the little Witch. He was rude and crass to her then, because of it. Because he wondered whether Azkaban also made him a lecherous old fool. Or maybe it was because of the Firewhisky. Either way, Sirius Black had known better than to think a talented and young Witch could care enough to entertain his morose musings. There had been that one night, when she caught him unawares and he almost ruined everything...

_Oh fuck..._

Her red eyes and tear from the house onto the back steps rang a belated bell in his mind and he inwardly winced. He had been the one to make her cry tonight. For one insane moment, Sirius felt a wave of protectiveness wash over him fought the inkling to go beat the shit out of his past counterpart.

He felt he owed it to her, her happiness. Unfortunately, what he was about to tell her wasn't going to make her life any easier.

Meanwhile, she must have seen something reassuring in him, because she sank to the earth at his boots and wand ever ready, observed him.

"What? Haven't you figured it out yet? You, with all your brilliance and cleverness?" He was baiting her again. He did so love to bait her, but couldn't hide the hint of bitterness behind his tone.

"You're a Wizard, but you're wearing Muggle clothes. You are an Animagus, and at least a Pureblood to make it past the Black and Dumbledore wards. But something's not right... I feel as though I should know you..."

Lifting his head, so his hair fell out of his eyes, he stared her in the eye and challenged with a grin, "Care to take a stab? Promise I won't bite if you want to feel my hair. Wouldn't blame you, actually."

She huffed a frustrated sigh and inched closer. "You are not what I expected to find."

Sirius frowned, affronted.

_What sort of twisted Witch didn't like my roguish good looks?_

__"What do you mean, love? I'll have you know I've still got it."

"Not _that_, you git," she said and he could have sworn she was blushing in the moonlight. "I simply mean, I expected you to be one of _his_ evil minions, come to take out the _mudblood_..." She practically spat the word out.

Sirius growled low, his Animagus tendencies coming out, "Never call yourself that again, Mione!"

She gasped at the rarely tolerated, let alone used nickname and a light emitted from her wand once again. He grinned up at her, ready for her to finally see him and hash out a bloody plan, _finally_.

Instead, she whispered, "Sirius?" and passed out onto his lap.

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**Review: Question 4-What's did Sirius do to make Hermione cry, do you think?**

**A/N**:_ Thanks so much everyone for your lovely reviews! I haven't had much time to answer the questions I wanted to, but have patience with me and I'll try and respond. Believe it or not, but your reviews are helping to shape this story. :)_


	5. Ghosts In No 12

**A/N: **_Thanks for your patience everyone! I've had quite a few things on my to-do list, and this story hasn't been a major priority, just a bit of fun. But the inspiration hit just right tonight and I decided to go ahead and treat you and myself. :) dreamywriter19, who gives the best reviews ever, this one's for you!_

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**Chapter 5**

**Ghosts In No. 12**

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It was all because of Sirius, Hermione thought with another silent flick of her wand. She had been doing her very utmost to stay out from underfoot of the Order the past few days. Occasionally, when they forgot to check in on her, or rather when Remus forgot to check in on her, she became talented at sneaking around with Crookshanks. The half-Kneazle was very pleased with his new abode, for there were many dark and dusty corners to hide in and go about his business. Unfortunately for Hermione, this also led her to many dark and dusty corners, looking for him. She was fearful of what hidden curses might be lurking about.

And ever since the night Mrs. Black's portrait caught a glimpse of the _Mudblood_ in her house, Hermione learned to be quiet as a mouse.

She had begun to clean a bit here and there, subtle things at first which shouldn't have been obvious to the "adults." She had to do _something_ after all, instead of just sit and wait for someone to speak with her.

Trouble was stirring out in the wide world and though only a few days had passed, Hermione was starting to feel like a prisoner. She was limited to the landing and kitchen and her bedroom. She was under strict orders from Remus _not _to snoop around. Any time the Order caught sight of her they were barking at her to let them conduct their meeting in peace.

And Sirius Black was no help at all. No, all he did was sleep away his days, speak with the Hippogriff upstairs (of whom Hermione was _also _forbidden to see) and drink Firewhisky.

_A lot of bloody Firewhisky..._

The only times he seemed to come above the liquor in his system, was when the Order mentioned Harry's name.

_Come along, Hermione, there was something else, wasn't there?_

"Yes there was, you twat, but let's not read into that!" she hissed to herself. This was the low point she had come to, with no one to converse with but herself and Crookshanks. But even now the memory rose up, unbidden to her, of the moment she stepped into the kitchen for a glass of warm milk and _he _was already there.

His glazed-over eyes flashed with something foreign, in light of the moon. She was half ready to slink back into the shadows when he set his drink back on the island table and asked what she wanted.

_"A glass of warm milk," _she had squeaked.

Gruffly, he mumbled under his breath and to her amazement, something akin to compassion filled his silvery eyes as he turned to the ice box and proceeded to heat her milk with a silent wave of his wand. True, it had taken him a minute to find the wand _in the back pocket of his slacks_ and he had swayed a bit before placing the glass in her hand. But she had smiled and drank greedily after, while he watched on with an inscrutable expression.

Crookshanks rubbed up against her, distracting her from the recent memory and pulling her back to the present. Glancing down, her brows knit together, she glared at her familiar, wondering what his problem was. He had _only _made her chase him past her room on the first floor and all the way to the topmost landing. Fortunately, the Order of the Phoenix were finishing up a rather arduous meeting, composed of the usual arguments. And Hermione had been learning to move silently as her not-so-normal pet along the creaking floorboards.

So when she at last captured her familiar in her arms and heard movement in the floor just below, she stupidly backed through a cracked open doorway to hide.

_You idiot! Now there's no way out if someone comes in! _She mentally berated herself.

Hermione was known for her cleverness and logic, but common sense hadn't always been her strong suit she secretly feared. And though she put on a brave lioness front, her weakness showed through her impulsiveness. True, she was not like Harry or Ron, barreling into almost any foolish situation. But that was because she purposely thought out everything. It was not her strong suit and when she was just a brilliant Muggle, she had been known for this brash impulsiveness, rushing in without a second thought.

And this impulse, she believed, had come back to haunt her. Still she backed until she was partially ensconced in dusty curtains.

_Full of doxies, no doubt!_

Breathlessly, she waited for the footsteps to pass by. When she heard no more noise, she began to wonder if there might be a stray ghost or ghoul and shivered at the thought of what spirit would cling to _this _house.

_But is that not what you have become to them? A ghost, unseen and uncared for?_

The negative thought stuck to her brain the moment after she thought it. This had been happening more often than not since her late night "wizard abduction" and she knew she was already showing several clinical signs of depression.

Crookshanks purred loudly just then, licking her chin with his rough, warm tongue. Hermione hissed, but hadn't the heart to scold him and squeezed tighter instead. Only after her heart calmed did she look around the room she had hidden within.

A master bed took up the majority of the space, decorated much like the rest of the furnishings in golds and reds. Half naked girls on motorbikes had been pasted beside the bed and clothes were strewn haphazardly about the wardrobe and room. Yet the bathroom on the opposite end was cracked open and slightly steaming.

Hermione frowned, stepping closer to see the pictures propped up on the dresser. Only then did she notice the pounding of water in the bathroom tub. Yet her curiosity could not be dismayed.

She saw the happy smiling faces moving from photo to photo. Her heart constricted when she recognized the face of her best friend, only he was taller, his eyes a muddled blend of green and brown and his smile was the brightest thing on his face. Three other boys goofed around with him in the photos, pulling one another's clothes askew as they continuously posed and grinned. The dark haired one with curling hair and flashing gray eyes was who drew her attention.

Vaguely, in the back of her mind, Hermione knew whose room she had falling into. She knew very well indeed that she was in danger of being caught somewhere forbidden.

She wondered why he had left the meeting early, or how she missed his movements through the house. Yet another part of her wanted to be caught, wanted _someone _to notice her again, to make her feel anything other than worry and fear of Voldemort.

She hadn't heard the definite squeak of the shower head being turned off. The door pushed open so suddenly, nearly blinding her with the brighter lamplight from within. Her eyes adjusted, just as her fingers dropped from the picture frame that intrigued her most. The teenaged boy version, riding his motorbike with James Potter, held many similarities with the jaded man now glaring at her. Except that the man's bare and emaciated chest were covered in scars and tattoos. The hair was slightly longer and the eyes filled with much more experience than she wondered if she could achieve in one lifetime.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked in his deep, mesmerizing voice.

Hermione gasped, realizing her eyed had been focused on his bare chest and the skin that was cut off by the towel wrapped around his waist.

_Oh my God...what am I doing?_

"I-I just," she began, then lifted Crookshanks as if the Kneazle could explain.

A single black brow arched and that was when Hermione Granger first realized that in spite of his age, Sirius Black was the most handsome man she had ever met in her life. The idea of it struck her with surprising force and left her feeling numb. For his chest had filled out a bit since she had last seen him in the caves last year. He must have been working on reconditioning his muscles since then, in spite of his oft drunken state. A strange heat filled her, the sort she had when Viktor had danced with her at the Yule Ball. And recently, though she'd never confess it, when Ron unwittingly verbally abused her.

_You are seriously barmy, Hermione...You cannot be crushing on Sirius Black!_

Yet there she was, still staring, running circles in her brain.

Impatiently, he barked his next words at her, his amusement turning into agitation, almost as if he could sense the change in her. "I won't ask again, Hermione. What are you doing in here? Didn't Moony tell you to stay in your rooms? There's a reason for the rules, love. Do you have any idea how many precious antiques the Dragon left sitting around before she died, ready to hex your pretty Muggle arse into oblivion?" His voice was rising in volume, eyes lighting with more life than she had seen since Harry was with them.

Hermione bit her lip and Sirius seemed to flinch in disgust then, backing a step. So she opened her mouth and the words escaped her mouth a jumbled mess. "I was chasing Crookshanks, because I feared he would be caught in all sorts of mischief in _this _house. Not that it's a terrible home, or place to grow up. It's just that you all had said we were to remain in certain areas for our own safety. And I couldn't abandon Crookshanks, could I? It's not my fault he decided to come to this floor. And I heard someone coming up the stairs, so-so I hid..." she was stammering by the end, embarrassed to admit to her secret weakness. And now _he knew_.

He nodded, face a trained and unreadable mask. Finally he rubbed his hand over his face and offered, "And so you just-decided to waltz in uninvited, yeah?"

"I-I'm sorry." Her eyes flickered to the pictures again and Sirius followed her gaze. Only then did she realize her fingers had left a very obvious trail of oil against the dust on that one particular photo. Or that she had shifted it just slightly out of place. "You all look so young. I see why you sometimes confuse Harry with James." As soon as the words were out of her mouth she thrust a hand over it, her gaze leaping back to him.

Sirius's expression darkened, drew in the shadows around him it seemed. Yet he was not glaring at her, only the trail she had left, the _changes _she had left on his dresser. "So you just, decide to waltz in..._without knocking, _and start rummaging around with other people's things. Don't you know how fucking stupid that was?"

Only then did she realize he was advancing towards her and she stepping back, tears blurring her vision of him. "Sirius, I'm so sorry, I-I should never have said,"

"Just shut the hell up!" he shouted, his face red and eyes flashing dangerously.

Here was the man they had been afraid of Third Year, the Azkaban escapee and madman. Here was a man who had done unspeakable things, they said.

"You're such a stick up the arse, Hermione. Did you know that? Always watching and judging and walking around here like a _fucking _ghost."

She bumped into his bedpost and flinched when he leaped forward to grab it. She was frightened, but not of him really. More afraid of herself. She never backed down in a fight. Her courage was a part of who she was! So why was she backing down now? And why did his words cut through her so sharply?

Sirius laughed briefly and hollowly before continuing, "You think you're the only prisoner in this shit hole, love? You think you're going mad after only a few _days _trapped here? Well try living in the pit of hell you were raised in, the place where the waking day was the nightmare. You fucking spoiled little princess! You don't have any idea! Wake the hell up and smell the roses, Hermione. Either you stop feeling sorry for yourself and start fighting back, or end up like me." He grabbed a nearby decanter of Firewhisky and shoved it forward so it was almost in her face, sloshing over the edges. "It's your choice, but there's not room for two deadbeats in this house. You've got two choices. Pick one."

Hermione's first sob escaped her, even as she lifted her chin defiantly and managed a broken, "You're better than this, you asshole!"

She fled downstairs, so quickly she didn't see him throw the glass across the room and bury his hands in his face.

Crookshanks escaped her arms at some point and the other Order members passing her by on their way out were only a blur. Her head only became clear once she had opened the door to the gardens. She hadn't been here before. It was another one of her "forbidden" places.

_Fuck forbidden..._she thought angrily, blaming Ron for her poor use of the English language.

Her tears spilled in copious amounts, yet she refused to let him get to her, to truly cry. Whipping out her wand, she began a spell she had invented and been perfecting just before they let out last term. The chilled night air was better than a slap in the face just then, filling her numbness with energy and reminding her that she was more than a ghost.

But what irked her was how they were both right. He _was_ better than the shell of a man he had become. The pictures in his room affirmed the stories she had heard of him. What she hadn't expected was his reaction to her snooping. He might have flown off the handle, granted, but she had invaded his privacy. And everyone here at Headquarters, she included, knew how unhinged Sirius was, perhaps better than most. She had no right bringing up the reason he was locked up in the first place.

And she was angry with herself for becoming the thing he had described, a weak person, a coward. Wiping away her tears with one hand she steeled herself with determination.

_I won't let them get to me. If I give in I'm as good as dead, like he said..._

With her mind on the Death Eaters who had threatened Muggles like herself, it was perhaps the worst possible moment for the following events to occur.

When a blurred figure came crashing over the fence and into the shrubbery in the overgrown corner opposite her, she was up and her wand ready, mind mulling over the endless spells she had read of and longed to practice. Surly the Ministry would forgive her this one discrepancy, if it were in self defense?

But then the young man did not talk or act like a Death Eater. He sounded more like someone in pain. She wasn't prepared to be drawn closer to him, moth to his dangerous flame. And she wasn't prepared for the instant the moonlight made an appearance, revealing his youthful features. His curling black hair was short, like the photo, his skin lightly bronzed from hours in the sun and his flashing silvery eyes shifted emotions like quicksilver.

"Sirius?" she gasped, seeing those eyes fill with relief and hope, before her world went black and she collapsed into a pair of strong capable hands.

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**Review: Now you know why he made her cry. But what the deuce are they gonna do next? ;)**


	6. Impossibly Illogical

_**A/N**__: Hello folks! It's been a while since I've updated, but I felt like writing more of this story tonight and hope you enjoy the latest installment. I have not forgotten about it. In fact, this update is largely due to the request of "Idle Writer of Crack" ;)_

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**Chapter 6**

**Impossibly Illogical**

Sirius was two bludgers short of a concussion when Hermione _still _hadn't woken up, three minutes afterwards. He had been patting her cheek lightly, tried making her sit up on her own and been thinking through spells that wouldn't bodily maim her ever since. To say he was panicking was an understatement. He was positively cracked and the fact Mad Eye _and _Moony with his werewolf senses, were just waiting on the other side of that stone wall, weren't helping his calm.

He had been counting on Hermione to help him devise a plan, to do whatever it was the Veil wanted him to do. And he had unfortunately remembered the details of the confrontation they had had before her retreat into the gardens. He was so _fucking _unhinged, with Harry out there for Death Eater pickings and himself stuck in this prison with nothing but bad memories. Living in Grimmauld Place again had been like Azkaban, only worse, because he had to avoid his mum's portrait every day.

Whatever odd connection he felt towards Hermione hadn't helped and he mused on the reason behind this as he held her head in his lap. With the moonlight casting patches of light on her angular features and ringlet curls, he felt a softening in his chest. It wasn't quite pity that he felt for her, or anything he could put a name on. But he did feel a strong protectiveness rise up inside him again, when he thought of her immobile on the ground during the Department of Mysteries battle. When he thought of everything this Witch had ever done for him and his godson. She was far more innocent than he had ever been and a part of Sirius wanted to protect that part of her at all costs.

He smiled when she blinked and fixed her gaze on him. "There you are, love. Have a pleasant nap?"

Hermione gasped, jumped out of his lap and onto her arse and shifted so they were a safe distance away. He watched her with amused interest and held his hands up to the wand pointed at him, once again. Inwardly he sighed.

She whispered low, "Tell me who you are and I swear if you are lying, I will hex you so none of that precious mop of hair grows back."

Sirius' eyes widened a fraction and he grinned. "Sirius Orion Black, Lord of the House of Black, I'm afraid. But you can call me _Master_." He winked and regretted it when she hexed him with a light stinging curse. "Ouch! That smarts, love."

Her eyes narrowed on him, while she crouched closer. "You may not be lying, but that doesn't mean you don't believe what you're saying. There is no plausible explanation for your appearance. Is it Polyjuice Potion?" She pushed the end of her wand into his chest and he grimaced. "I have half a mind to call the Order out here straight away and let them deal with you. So I suggest you start telling me what I want to know."

Sirius couldn't help it. He laughed until his eyes were wet with tears, a roughly hewn, barking sound that made Hermione pale. He shook his head and replied, "I'm sorry, Mione. It's just so much fun watching you trying to be a damned Auror."

She huffed a sigh and gripped her wand even tighter. "I do not appreciate you mocking me. I am very serious!" she hissed.

His laughter faded, though the twinkle in his eyes remained and he leaned forward to tap her on the nose as he lightly said, "I have every confidence that you are, love. But this goes beyond Death Eaters, the Order, time turners, or any other explanation you've got in that pretty little head of yours. I'm from the future, as a matter of fact and if you want to save Harry's life, you'll need to start trusting me."

* * *

Hermione still couldn't believe how desperate she was. Had she become so lonely over the past week that she was willing to believe _him_, this man who claimed he was the future Sirius Black?

_But he mentioned Harry like he knew him, and he used that horrid nickname..._

And for whatever reason, Hermione felt a connection to this young, older man. No magic she was aware of could make a person look exactly like the younger version of someone else. So when she had ruled out all plausible explanations, the only possible one _was _the impossible.

She had laid things out, quite clearly for him in the spare minutes before dragging him into Grimmauld Place.

"Rule number one, you must be willing to obey my every instruction and whim." Sirius began to protest and she held up a hand before sticking up her chin and continuing, "If I feel your actions are suspicious for any reason, I will not hesitate to act. Do you doubt my capability to do so?"

Sirius grinned wryly at her and shook his head.

"Good," she said with a nod and weighty sigh. "Stand still, then." While Sirius obeyed, she began to cast a complex weave of spells over him. She wasn't quite so proficient as she needed him to believe. What he didn't know was she already knew spells better than anyone in her class, and many above her level. She was already considered the brightest of her age. And no, she wouldn't consider the irony of who coined that term.

Sirius shivered and looked at her oddly once it was done. "Hmm..."

"How does it feel?" she asked, tentatively.

Lifting a hand to brush his curls out of his face, he met her eye and smirked. "Good. I think I like you hexing me better than my Dragon of a mum."

"It wasn't a hex, per say," she murmured, unable to maintain eye contact.

He shrugged and held out his hand. "No matter. If you say it works, I believe you. And if you want to keep interrogating me, we're going to need to test your skills.

Thus, Hermione Granger found herself being led by a stranger into the house they both had named their prisons. Thankfully, the Order was still hard at work arguing on which method was best to retrieve Harry and Sirius no longer stirred from his floor. She had no doubt the Firewhisky had done its work.

And she curiously watched the charmed and cloaked, younger-looking version of him, as they made their way to her room. Hermione had been given the only guest room on the first landing. The others where the Order members occasionally stayed were on the floor above. This made for a quick and easy access for their retreat, but might also make for some very real problems.

Belatedly, she realized Crookshanks was missing from her room, on a new tear through the cursed house, no doubt. And after her confrontation with Sirius, she had no desire to hunt for her familiar now. Instead she sank onto the moldy rug before the small fireplace, next to the second, unused bed her guest was currently eyeing with longing. Wordlessly, she lit the formerly put out flames with her wand and watched the light play over his shadowed features.

He rubbed his hands together and seemed to be considering something heavy. So he was startled when she asked, "How long have you been on the streets?"

"What?" he said with a pause and spark to his gray eye.

She began to twist her kinky hair with her fingers and cocked her head to appraise him. "You look like you haven't had a decent meal or slept in a bed for some time."

"Just a few days." He shrugged and took off his leather jacket, draping it on the end of the bed he stood near. After, he sank against its post and propped up his legs to study her in return.

"You look like he did, when we found you-_him _the second time..." she trailed off with a frown marring her face. Then, she perked up, not noticing the darker, haunted gleam in his eyes as she said, "How about you tell me something I know?"

"What?" he asked again, in a slightly bitter tone. "Are we playing a game now, Hermione?"

"Well," she shifted on the rug and crossed her fingers together in her lap. "You asked me to trust you. Bringing you inside and hiding you from the others is considered a leap of faith in my opinion. If you really are Sirius, then I want you to tell me something only he and I would know, something you couldn't have learned from someone else or a memory charm."

He winced and looked away from her into the flames. "The second time you referred to was when I was living in the caves near Hogwarts, last year. I ate rats just so I could keep an eye on you three..."

"Not just Harry?" she asked, slightly surprised.

He met her eye and smiled. "No, not just Harry. Anyways," he said, moving to lay down beside her on the rug, "you were the one who thought to bring me food. You were always annoyingly thoughtful like that. Made it hard to stay pissed at you when you opened that bloody trap of yours." He grinned and she blushed in spite of herself.

"Forgive me if I'm not afraid to state my opinion," she said.

He rested his arms behind his head and glanced up at her. "Like you did earlier tonight. I remembered as soon as I saw you rush out in tears, love. I made you cry, all because you made me remember the past. Because seeing your face in one of my darkest moments, reminded me of who I used to be..."

Hermione gasped and clutched her heart with her hand. Shaking her head, she whispered, "It's impossible..."

His dark mood faded instantly, replaced by a mask of sarcasm and good humor. "Well, that's what I thought when Bellatrix hexed me into a talking Veil in the Department of Mysteries. But there are some benefits to being dead, after all, I'd wager," he said with a wag of his brows.

Hermione grasped her head in her hands and groaned. "This is too much for me to grasp, Sirius..."

He sat up, excitedly, "See! You're already starting to believe me. I can tell. Now, listen here, love. I know this is exactly the sort of thing you can handle. You were the one who thought to use a time turner to save my sorry arse two years ago, yeah? If the brightest witch of her age can do that, then she can find a way to make sense of this."

Hermione felt something shift and snap into place inside her with his words. She recalled everything his older..._younger_...self had told her earlier, about finding her courage once more. And now, as she listened to the mad ravings that could only come from a Black, her brain began to make sense of it, of _him_ and herself.

He continued explaining, "I died because the Dark Lord fooled Harry into thinking I was in trouble. Add to that some poor communication skills and you lot end up searching for me in the Department of Mysteries. By the time we showed up the Death Eaters had surrounded you. We fought back, but I was too bloody cocky. I let Bellatrix put me in a corner.

When I died, something happened. I didn't see James or Lily but was stuck on the other side of this...Veil...and then it tells me I'm supposed to find away to keep my younger, uglier self alive this time around." He exhaled deeply after, as though relieved to finally speak the words aloud.

Hermione stared blankly back at him. "Why didn't you go to yourself, then, why not Harry?"

His excitement cooled, replaced by the same look he had given her earlier that night, the same look he had given her for years, since she was a young girl on top of a hippogriff's back.

"Hermione, you know I'm no good to myself or anyone right now. In fact, I'm drunk off my arse up in bed at this moment. And you remember how Harry was at the beginning of your fifth year...or yet...you will. The only person who could talk sense into Harry when the time came, the only one who _I_ would listen to, was clear to me. It has to be _you_."

She gaped at him and wondered what he expected her to reply with, what she expected herself to say. She was silent for so long, lost to her thoughts, trying to ponder through all that he had and hadn't said. She was certain he had broken the rules of time travel a dozen times over, just within their last conversation. But he hadn't used a time turner, he had been "sent back" as he put it. And the thought of Sirius dying put a cold feeling through her, chilled her to the bone.

Brushing aside what it would mean for her, she thought of Harry instead.

_It will destroy Harry..._

"By the way," Sirius said after standing. "You only gave me one rule earlier. What else am I to be subjected to during my servitude?" he teased, stretching back against the headboard opposite hers.

Hermione's heart clenched at the sight of a young, healthy and most importantly _alive _version of him. She tried not to smile when she answered, "You'll have to wait and see, Mr. Black."

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**Review: When does the impossible become logical after all?**


	7. Kindred Spirits

**A/N: **_This newest post was written just tonight, due to the behest of "Idle Writer of Crack" and most recently, the loverly "Bluebird1125"! This one goes to these two ladies. Also thanks to Dreamywriter19 for catching me on a bit of realism points ;)_

_**Why Sirimione? **__Because they're perfectly imperfect together._

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**Chapter 7**

**Kindred Spirits**

* * *

"Mione, love, my knickers need a decent washing. Can't you just..."

"_NO_, Sirius," she replied through gritted teeth.

He sighed heavily and tapped his finger on the iron bed frame for a few idle seconds, while the magic floated and caressed the both of them. Then he tried again. "Couldn't you just bring a book with you to the loo? I can be quick and..."

"Sirius," she said with a warning glare.

"But there's only so much a good 'scourgify' can do, love!" he whined petulantly, sounding very much like the young man he appeared to be.

"Not going to happen, Black," she firmly stated.

He sulked to himself, grumbling something about _prude Witches _or other.

Hermione hissed as she struggled to maintain the spell she was casting over their shared room. Sirius was not making things any easier for her, dressed in only his Muggle jeans and a thin, white "wife-beater" that left little to the imagination. Not when he was currently propped on his stomach, observing her over his steepled fingers.

She blew a loose curl out of her eyes again and tried to ignore the beads of sweat gathering on her brow. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the Marauder raise a slightly slanted eyebrow.

"_What_ is it this time?" she asked.

"Nothing, just wondering something," he gently intoned. His smile was soft and his gray slate eyes were focused intently on the glow emitting from her wand and laying over the formerly gloomy guest room.

"What?" Hermione rolled her eyes and flicked her wand one last time.

_There! At last! _

For a moment, she forgot about Sirius and allowed herself to bask in the afterglow of her accomplishments. No one would ever accuse Hermione Granger of vanity, but she was a glutton for success. Failure was never an option in the equation of things for her. Her smile fell.

_But you couldn't keep Harry from Barty Crouch Jr. You should have known it was Polyjuice Potion. You should have seen it coming. You should have been there to protect him instead of worrying over Ron and Viktor!_

She gasped when an impossibly broad chest slid into view and a pair of lightly calloused fingertips tilted her chin and brushed her thick mane behind her ear. Her eyes lifted and met the soulful, concerned gray gaze of the young, older man and her heart inexplicably ached.

"Mione, love, what is it? Why do you look like a hippogriff just ate your kneazle?"

The corner of his mouth tilted up and she stared at the dimples that creased his cheeks.

_How could you have missed those adorable dimples? Oh yes, his beard...wait a minute, Granger! Get a hold of yourself!_

Shaking her head, hopefully to ward off his concern, she stepped away from his frighteningly addictive touch. "It's nothing...I just-" she paused before their little fireplace and pivoted to face him.

He had slipped his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans and shifted his weight onto one bare foot. Tilting his head to the side, his black curls slid into his face and he reached up a toned arm to push them aside.

Hermione bit her lip and cursed her naughty thoughts.

The past couple of days had been...difficult, at best. It wasn't exactly simple, hiding a doppelganger from his older-looking counterpart and a house full of Aurors. She had forced him to remain in their room, besides the necessary bodily necessities and grudgingly escorted him to and from the adjoining bathroom door in the hall. And because she didn't trust anyone, because she was in the way anyhow and Crookshanks could care for himself; but mostly because she was too conflicted to face the other Sirius Black at the moment, Hermione remained imprisoned with his _younger_/_older_ self.

Aforementioned Wizard had filled the silence with a knowing sigh and after snatching his wand out of his back pocket, had begun twirling it expertly around his fingers. "Are we playing the quiet game again, Mione?" he said, after casting a hex on her bushy mane.

Hermione nearly shrieked when it began to smooth itself into perfectly black ringlet curls. "Sirius Black! What have you done to my hair?" She grasped the tortured locks and lifted her eyes at him in horror.

Sirius barked a laugh that ended in something that sounded suspiciously like giggles. "I dunno, why don't you counter it? Seeing as you've found a way around the Ministry's tracking charms."

Hermione froze and slowly lowered her hands. Her mouth worked as a dozen different explanations drifting before her mind. None of them were within her grasp, not with such an infuriatingly gorgeous Wizard smirking so sexily at her.

_He is __**not **__sexy! He's old enough technically to be your father. In fact, he's your best friend's __**godfather**__. So. Back. Off._

Her face crumpled and her shoulders drooped. "I can't believe I've been so stupid. I could have jeopardized everything if you were a Death Eater in disguise," she lamented and stared angrily at the offending vine wood with dragon heart string in her hands.

Sirius' laugh startled her to look at him again. He shook his head, covering his mouth and then unleashed his most devastating grin.

Hermione scowled back at him. "What, pray tell, do you find so amusing about this? Just because I refuse to act like an impulsive wart like _you_..."

Sirius' smirk slanted into a tight frown and his eyes flashed as he ran a hand through his hair. "I'm laughing because you started acting like a damned Auror again."

He took a step towards her and lowered his arm so it hung loosely at his side. But his every move was filled with purpose, and his eyes were taking her in with such a curious blend of curiosity and something else, she was finding it difficult to breathe.

He added, "I'm _laughing_, Mione, because you aren't the first person to get around the Ministry's bloody laws. James, Remus and me used to do it every summer. How else could we plan the cleverest of pranks if we couldn't _test _them? But you're acting like you just accidentally kissed _You-Know-Who_'s arse." He was now close enough that she could see the glow of his eyes amid the shadows against his brow.

Slowly he reached his hand up and she held her breath when he slid his wand into the thick of her hair and grazed her scalp.

To dispel the tension and coiling in her lower belly, she struggled for the right words to speak. She knew well that strange tightening, thanks to Viktor Krum last term. But these feelings were troublesome, meddlesome to her now. So she told him, "It's just that-when I came home for the summer and winter holidays, there was only so much true application I could find in my studies. I'm at a disadvantage to so many Witches and Wizards and I simply thought that, if I found the source of their tracking charm, I might disguise it for a bit. For my own purposes. Not because I intended to break any...well, you...you..."

"There, all done," Sirius simply replied with a cheeky grin and using his wand, brought her hair between them for her inspection. It had returned to a familiar roan tinted and bushy brown.

Hermione sighed with relief and grasped her hair lovingly. "Oh thank Merlin!" she sighed, forgetting their close proximity. Lifting her gaze to him, her eyes narrowed and she slapped him in the chest. "And I swear, if you _ever _hex my hair again, Sirius Black..."

They both jumped when the door rattled in its frame. Hermione was frozen and fearful that all the wards she had learned through the Black's extensive and dark library, all the pointers Sirius had given her since they first began their partnership, had been for naught.

Sirius, on the other hand, had sprung into action. Turning on his heel instantly, he held his wand arm up and reached out with his other to make certain she waited behind. "Stay here," he whispered low. He sniffed the air and she watched curiously as he stepped, feather-light over the ancient carpet.

Something scratched against the frame and the door rattled again. Only this time, without the distraction of the canine animagus, she was able to recognize the sound clearly.

Hermione rolled her eyes and brushed past him. "It's only Crookshanks, Sirius," she said, as though she hadn't been affected too.

"You don't know for certain, Hermione!" Sirius practically growled and stomped ahead to overtake her.

She slipped out of his grasp again and sent him a scathing look. "I know my familiar, Sirius. You're acting awfully skittish. Maybe you really are a paranoid thirty-eight year old child," she said, almost flippantly. She didn't know why she felt the need to throw his age at him yet again. But she couldn't resist reminding him, reminding both of them that they shouldn't pretend this arrangement was going to last forever.

She caught his stricken look, the sudden lines about his eyes and mouth and regretted her words. He looked too much like the Sirius she knew from her time, the one happiest with a bottle of Firewhisky in his hands. The one who had lost all sense of purpose in his life besides his godson.

Opening the door to the hall allowed a rush of fresh air they needed and a wave of sound that had been magically shut out from their little bubble. A very frustrated half-kneazle leaped into her arms after. She smiled, kissed the top of his orange furred head and kicked the door shut behind her.

Sirius grumbled something under his breath as he sank onto he rug before the fire.

"What are you muttering on about?" she asked while lightly teasing the top of Crookshank's fur.

Sirius glanced up at her from the dark curtain veiling his eyes and hesitated. "Do you think I'm old, Hermione?"

Clutching Crookshanks a bit tighter than necessary, she knelt onto the floor beside him. "I suppose I..." she paused and thought of the night she met _this _Sirius, when the elder had appeared from the shower looking far too handsome for a naive fifteen year old girl to be lusting after.

Brown eyes fixed onto a darker shade of gray and softened when she recognized his uncertainty. It surprised her to discover that her opinion mattered to him. He frowned when she smiled at him.

Crookshanks pried himself from her embrace and gingerly moved to cuddle up in Sirius' lap instead. He turned his scowl to the cat-kneazle hybrid, "You come over to laugh at me too?"

Hermione smiled brightly then, taking them both by surprise when she said, "I don't think, even if you had white hair and wrinkles that anyone would ever consider you _old_, Sirius. I think you have always been too hard on yourself. Perhaps that is another reason the Veil sent you back to this time. Maybe this isn't just about Harry. Maybe it's you who needs his hope returned?"

* * *

As her thoughts took over, mulling about in her mind in a maze of connections and possibilities they had yet to uncover, Sirius watched her. She did not notice how the fondness and affection that had built betwixt them through their hours planning and talking and arguing together had given him a different kind of edge. And she didn't know that he was fighting an inner battle his younger/older self couldn't have had the balls for. Or so he told himself, secretly.

"Sirius? I think you should call on Kreacher to bring us supper," she said while positioning her notes on the rug before them.

He stared at her for a moment after, at the way the firelight gleamed on her thick wild curls. He had learned minutes ago that he hated black ringlet curls on Hermione. In his teen years that had been a fantasy of his, a voluptuous vixen with black corkscrew curls. He'd always had a thing for curls, only now his ideals seemed to have changed. The wild chestnut and tawny shades suited Hermione's olive complexion and her shimmering honey eyes. He smiled faintly as he thought of her recent declaration. He hadn't expected her to respond so vehemently. Most Witches would have laughed and played along. But not _her_.

Sirius was beginning to believe that the Veil, the gods, or whoever was up there, had designed this time to be his purgatory, the sweetest of hells on earth. Living with Hermione had driven him bonkers at first. She was pretentious, bossy and determined as hell. She was a spitfire and fought back when angered, curiously though, most strongly against him. She was already a woman in so many ways, a child in others. They were both young in body and ancient in their kindred spirits.

He wondered how he could have missed it the last time around, how he could have simply brushed off the chance to know _her._

_Hermione..._

He summoned that wretched house elf and watched as it glared at her. He threatened bodily harm underneath a few veiled threats, things only Kreacher would remember. The elf had not been so surprised to see his Master in such a youthful form, or even a doppelganger, pseudo spirit version of him. Kreacher was, after all, a very old elf, who had seen many disturbing things in such a very old house.

Kreacher hated Muggles with a passion that rivaled his old dragon of a mum. But for this younger looking version of his Master, he tolerated Hermione. She treated it with a respect it didn't deserve, in Sirius' opinion.

Fortunately for Sirius, the elf was bound to help him. So while Hermione scratched a parchment with a chewed up quill, Sirius casually gave orders, "You are to do everything this Muggleborn, Hermione Granger says. Do you understand?" Without raising his voice, he allowed a sliver of the dagger to slip through his words.

Kreacher nodded and narrowed its eyes on the oblivious Witch. "Kreacher lives to serve the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black...We like this younger version of Master much better, don't we Mistress? They talk of hidden things...secret things. Kreacher knows how to keep secrets, to hide things away..."

"Get on with it you wretched thing," Sirius mumbled with an impatient wave of his hand. He did not want to lose it in front of the House Elf in front of Hermione. He still remembered her S.P.E.W and how much she fought for the rights of others, even beings that didn't want her help.

After Kreacher had left the room, he turned on his stomach to peer over her scribblings. "Have it all mapped out, then?" he asked with glee. Just thinking about all the mischief they were about to get into got his blood to pumping.

_Much better than rotting away in this hell hole! _

He couldn't quite feel sorry for his other self and the long months ahead. It was a journey he had been forced to endure mostly alone, a necessary one. But if Hermione was right, maybe she could change even that.

She sighed and blew that one incessant lock out of her face. He fought his smile and the urge to tuck it away as she commented, "All the papers have been drawn up. I only hope we aren't sent to Azkaban, the both of us, for attempting this..."

Sirius scrambled to sit upright and snatched her ink stained fingers in his much larger hands. "Course we won't get caught, love! You're looking at a true Marauder, here. And if you play your cards right, I might even convince Moony to giving you a nickname of your own. We're in desperate need of another animagus," he said with a wink.

Hermione blushed and hid her face behind her hair, hating how easily he got to her. With more force than was necessary, she replied, "Dumbledore will be the hardest to convince. Not to mention Harry and the others. You understand how important it is that we play this right?"

His grin fell with Kreacher's return and the platter of warm food wafting a heavenly smell at their noses. Nodding to the house elf, he said, "Go about your chores. Remember our deal, Kreacher. I won't forget where your true loyalties lie."

Kreacher's eyes gleamed with the promise before he disappeared with a faint '_pop' _and left them alone. Sirius made a deal that first night when Hermione convinced him to order them a late dinner.

_"We can't sneak down to the kitchens every time you need a snack, can we? Someone will notice," _she had said.

Turning to Hermione, he finally replied to her earlier statement. "I'm the best gambler I know and the worst enemy to have not on your side."

Hermione rolled her eyes and took another bite of her dinner roll. "Fine, but it's not just you that's counting on you pulling this off. Harry needs you and I..." she trailed off with a frown.

He would have given anything in that moment to pry apart her defenses and learn the meaning behind that troubled look.

Her gaze passed over their platter and her eyes widened. "We're missing something. He forgot our drinks."

Sirius shrugged, caring more for whatever she was about to say, whatever was making his stomach clench and turn in unexpected ways. But the word drinks and the thought of watching that ruby red stain her full lips snapped him out of his stupor and he said, "I'll call Kreacher."

"No," she said, reaching out to press a palm to his arm and stood. He wondered if she even noticed how at ease she was with him. He couldn't forget it, even if his thoughts of late were making him question his already unstable mind.

"I should go," she said, nodding to herself and sliding her feet into her slippers.

Sirius watched her flee from him with a little too much satisfaction and crossed his arms over his chest in a pout. "Love to see 'em come, love even more to watch 'em go," he whispered with a laugh.

Crookshanks picked up his furry head to look at him indifferently.

"So what if I think she's got a nice ass?" Sirius protested, "What are you going to do about it? Piss on me?" Crookshanks meowed loudly, then purred as Sirius' hand returned to scratch his belly.

Sighing, Sirius shut his eyes and pictured her dancing down those stairs to the kitchen. He imagined her snatching a bottle from his private stash and trying to sneak past a werewolf and another animagus.

He frowned as his inner eye grew fuzzy and blurred about the edges. Instead of coming straight up, she turned to hear a sound and entered that damned library.

She saw him nursing the hearth with a bottle of Odgen's finest and cringed.

_Good year..._

Then he watched his other self turn around and catch sight of the young Witch interrupting his misery. She didn't know that she was a part of the reason _for_ his misery...

Sirius opened his eyes with a start and realized that this went beyond imagining. And it certainly wasn't a memory he recognized. Hermione hadn't spoken to him after the night he shouted at her to leave his room, not until after the Weasleys arrived days later.

So what had he just seen?

The answer came at him like a stray bludger and left him cursing, "What the _fuck_?"

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_**Review: Question-What was that strange moment then? A memory, his imagination or something else do you think? You'll find out next time!**_


	8. Altering Alliances

_**A/N**: Another update! Now you finally get the answers to last chapter's question, brooding Sirius Sexy Black and an interesting proposition. Enjoy!_

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**Chapter 8**_  
_

**Altering Alliances**

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Sirius didn't hear her step into the library.

Carefully, she slipped her stolen goods in a shadowed corner beside the now open doorway, before approaching him. She hadn't meant to get sidetracked, hadn't meant to speak to _him _at all. In fact, Hermione had been doing her best to stay far away from the Wizard she so offended.

His younger-older doppelganger waiting upstairs begged to differ. According to him, he had acted appallingly the night he made her cry and she had no right to forgive him.

Hermione smiled faintly, the heat building up in her cheeks as she remembered his many attempts to make up for this affrontry. He had taken to calling her all sorts of pet names. When she threatened him with hexes that even he had never heard the names of, he backed off verbally and resorted to physical displays. She shivered to think of the way he had lifted her easily the night before and tucked her into bed.

She was thinking of the hardness of those arm and chest muscles now as she approached his older looking counterpart. Books surrounded them, musty and dusty most of the lot, though a few gleamed. Others even seemed to whisper to her of dark and secret things.

"-not useful, you waste of space bloody git..." Sirius was mumbling as he finished pouring his drink into the flames, his mood loud and clear from where she stood.

Hermione took in his fine clothes and the way he still seemed too thin for them. Her one glimpse of his post shower tattoo littered chest had proved hew was regaining muscle, she thought with a flush of heat. He had improved greatly since that night in the Shrieking Shack. But now that she knew his younger self, now she knew the real _him, _she couldn't bite back her sigh.

Sirius started and whipped around to face her. His eyes were only partially glazed over tonight. Quickly, they took her in, before hungrily searching her face.

Her lips parted further at this silent intrusion. The way he looked at her was different than his future self did. For some reason she couldn't point a finger to, this felt almost..._intimate_.

_Don't be ridiculous, Granger._

"So you've finally decided to show your face again, yeah?" Sirius asked, chucking the rest of his bottle into the flames.

Hermione lifted her hand and bit her lip to keep from worrying over the empty glass as it shattered against the bricks. She lowered her hand slowly back to her side and suddenly wished she hadn't been so damned curious. What made her turn to find who was waiting in the library tonight? It could have been any of the Aurors or even Professor Lupin. Somehow she had _known _it was him, though.

Sirius was becoming a bad influence on her.

He stood to his feet in one swift move, far more at ease than the Firewhisky on his breath indicated. Perhaps he wasn't as drunk as she had assumed he was? Hermione didn't know if this put her more or less at ease.

Steeling her resolve, she lifted her chin and plucked her courage. "I thought everyone was asleep."

_Brilliant, Hermione. Very original. Just make your excuse and leave!_

But she couldn't. Not while facing the torture and despondency clearly written in Sirius Black's face.

A low grunt escaped him as he swayed slightly and took another step. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he narrowed his gray eyes on her and said, "What? I'm not allowed to drink in my own bloody home, is that it?"

He was trying to be threatening, she realized. It was something he did when he wanted to push others away.

She bit back a smile. Before, she would have been intimidated by him. But after spending nearly every waking and sleeping hour in his company, she was beginning to see through the broken cracks to the truth behind his mask.

"You were pouring all of your Firewhisky in there a moment ago," she said.

Sirius grimaced and turned over his shoulder to see the broken glass now reflecting the flames. "So I did," he sighed and sank back onto his seat to bury his face in his hands. "Just go away Hermione. No one fancies a nosy twat, always getting underfoot...just like me..." he paused and sat up suddenly, barking an almost familiar laugh.

She couldn't help her hesitant smile as she sat on the sofa across from him.

Sirius's laughter had faded and he eyed her with something akin to wonder.

She fought between grins and grimaces, knowing she should just march back to her room right this minute. She wasn't supposed to be attracting any unwanted attention, least of all from _him._

But she wasn't expecting him to shake his head, ruefully and say, "You know I never thought about it till now, but we're just alike, you and I. We're both unappreciated, me because I'm a lush and a desperate git and you," he paused and his eyes gleamed appreciatively as he finished, "because you're the brains of the Golden Trio."

"What?" she nearly shouted, not expecting his assessment of her. It contrasted completely with the things he had said to her the other evening. In fact, it sounded much more like something the younger Sirius would say, even bordering on a compliment.

He shrugged and eased back as if she had not pierced his ears with her bark. "It's true. The Order wants to keep you and Harry and the rest in the dark because you're kids. But that's mental and we both know better."

His eyes turned colder, shrewd and she could almost see his resemblance to the horrid painting hanging in the entryway.

Sirius smirked at her expression. "They want you to stay young forever. But fact is, at the end of the day, it's not me or Kingsley or Moody who get to take on that little _fucker_. And the sooner they start treating you like adults the more prepared you'll be. If we'd been more prepared, if James and Lily had _known... Shit, _'s all so fucked up that I can't even look after Harry properly!"

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but he broke their connection and turned to face the flames again. She took in a deep breath before saying what she already felt was overstepping her bounds.

_He started it_, her mind argued and she had to agree.

And she would be lying if she didn't admit that her heart soared a bit, just to know _someone _understood how she felt. She didn't realize she was standing until she had crossed the short distance between them and knelt before him. "Sirius, there is nothing you can do until your name is cleared."

She paused when his firm jaw clenched and his curtain of black hair fell further into his face and she mentally berated herself. No doubt that was just what the rest of the Order had already told him. So she tried a different tactic. "But that doesn't mean you can't start improving yourself now. That doesn't mean you have to give up, or think you aren't useful. You _are _useful because you're important to Harry."

He looked up, a strange, heated gleam back in his eye again as she continued.

"You're important to me..._and_ Remus and Ron, of course." Her face heated with embarrassment as she realized what she had said. She reached up and brushed her hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. When she dared to look back at him, she thought she almost saw a smile teasing the corner of his lips.

"I think I was wrong about us being just alike, Hermione. But don't you think you could maybe stop avoiding me and we could join forces instead?" His grin was evident when she blushed further.

"Are you proposing an alliance?" she asked.

He rubbed the lower half of his face and seemed to be struggling to regain his composure as he seriously replied, "Maybe I could pass along information to you, when I can. I can help you prepare instead of treating you like a kid. And you can help me not be so barmy all of the time. How did you put it? Help me _improve _myself?"

Hermione giggled and inwardly reminded herself to smack his future self in the head for reducing winking at her just then. Usually by now she would have been exasperated by his ridiculous mood swings and almost childish antics. But a lot had changed in the past forty-eight hours.

"I think you made your first step by pouring the rest of that bottle in the fire," she said, her eyes twinkling warmly at him.

Sirius blanched and then sputtered, "Like hell it was! That was the last of my grandfather Pollux's private stash. Where else am I going to find quality whiskey around? Not like I can go waltzing over to Diagon Alley later..." his eyes narrowed on her a moment, "yeah, you're too young to go for a run. Damn..."

Hermione rolled her eyes and reached over to shove him as she was used to doing with his younger self. The moment his smile lit up his face her own fell. What was she doing?

_Not blending in, Hermione! It was much better when you were hiding in the drapes with Crookshanks. What if he starts to seek you out, now? What if he talks about you with Professor Lupin?_

He laughed and said, "A bloke can only hope. So what do you say?"

Hermione started and blinked stupidly at him. "Hmm...what?"

He tugged on one of her curls and smiled easily at her. "Our alliance. I'm game if you are. The Weasley's are arriving tomorrow. I couldn't stand Molly fifteen years ago and I can't now. Maybe you can help keep her from digging into me as often. But it might be fun to recruit Ron and those twin brothers of his to our side. From what I've heard they're almost as wild as me and James were." His laughter faded and his gaze seemed to peer past her, to the happy moments she had seen captured on his dresser the other night.

Just the memory of that night made their conversation even odder and Hermione stood and stretched a hand out to him. "I'd say we have an agreement then, Mr. Black. But let's keep this between us, okay?"

He pushed the hair back from his face and peered up curiously at her after releasing her hand. "Covert operation, then? Even better. Just remember, you'll need to act like you loathe me in public and I'll pretend you're a prissy twat, yeah?"

Hermione rolled her eyes as she began her retreat, "Don't think we'll have to pretend, Sirius." Her smile kept her words from sounding harsh and she almost didn't hear him speak as he turned back to the flames.

"Thanks, love. And...I-I'm sorry for being such a foul git to you, before."

Hermione smiled and bent to wrap her fingers around the neck of the hidden bottle by the door. "I forgive you, you miserable blighter."

He chuckled lightly and added, "If you leave now, I won't tell anyone about you nicking my last bottle of Mr. Odgen, either."

Hermione squeaked and scrambled up the steps before he changed his mind.

* * *

She was breathless when she opened the door to their room and sank heavily against it once she was in. She covered her mouth to suppress her giggles.

"Took you long enough," a very serious, much younger sounding Sirius Black greeted her. He was sitting on her bed with his arms crossed and a very disturbed expression on his face.

She held up the bottle and said, "This will cheer you up, though after our last conversation I'm not so sure alocoholic beverages are the answer for you, Sirius." She fought to keep her laughter in, thinking of his older counterpart's stricken expression.

He shook his head, "Have you gone completely mental, then? What were you doing talking to _me _like that? You don't have a fuckin' clue what you just did," he groaned and covered his face with his hand.

She was struck, not just by his words, but by how his actions mirrored his dark moment in the library. She sank on her bed and for once did not grumble at him to get off. For whatever reasons he had, Sirius swore that her bed was more comfortable and therefore gave himself permission to invade her space whenever possible.

She frowned. "What's the matter with you? It is _your _house remember and it's only natural that I should run into you. Then again..." She froze as his words finally sank in and her eyes rounded.

Sirius peeked through his fingers at her and reached to take the bottle from her hands. "Oh yeah, that's right. It's a bit fuzzy right now but I _remember _that conversation we just had in the library. And you wanna know the funny part? Last time around, you _didn't _come in and interrupt my brooding. We didn't make any fuckin' alliances and you sure as hell weren't the first person to crack a grin out of me in weeks."

"A new memory..." she pondered aloud and sank against the wall until their shoulders brushed.

He handed her the now open bottle and surprised her by grinning broadly and saying, "Hell yeah. Drink up, Mione, because tonight we're celebrating! I think we can change the future after all, love."

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**Review: Don't _you _wanna know all the stuff that's about to go down? ;)**


	9. The Trouble With Weasley's

**A/N: **This post is for all the loverly readers, erythra-selena, IdleWriterOfCrack, Bluebird1125 and mh21, who have made things happen and inspired me by their clever suggestions ;) While this chapter was going to be much longer, I decided to chop it into two separate parts. Unfortunately I won't be able to devote as much time to fanfic this weekend as I'd thought. So enjoy for now and look forward to next week already being partly written!

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**Chapter 9**

**The Trouble With Weasley's**

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"SPIDERS!" Ronald Billius Weasley cried as he ran out of the dining room and into the kitchen. The rest of the assembled Weasley clan laughed and even the stoic Harry Potter cracked a grin at the sight of the spiders leaping from the cabinet and chasing after the youngest son.

It was the bloody shower's fault for ruining her mood that day, she decided. If only he hadn't been so damned persistent and so...well..._Sirius!_

On the whole, Hermione felt that things had been going very nicely, in spite of the fact she was keeping such a secret. She had spent quite enough time with her magical adopted family in the past and was overjoyed to see them again. But for some reason, she couldn't accept all of Mrs. Weasley's motherly affections. Too much had changed since Cedric Diggory died and Voldemort returned.

Harry might have been everyone's focal point, including hers, but that didn't mean she wasn't equally affected. Certainly, she put up her bravest front. But the day the Weasley's invaded Grimmauld place, Hermione found she wasn't as keen on the noise as she might have been. She grew up as an only child, after all and since her arrival, was used to passing underfoot, unnoticed. Suddenly, she couldn't walk into a room without being accosted by an awkward, lanky and bumbling Ronald. Or forced into a kitchen table seat while Mrs. Weasley forced more baked goods down her throat.

Or dragged up to Ginny's room where she was forced to either talk of Quidditch or the latest feminine products. Ginny was alright in her own way, Hermione supposed. Of all the girls at Hogwarts, Hermione liked her the best. But she was too perceptive and too nosy for her own good. And she had been somewhat miffed when Hermione insisted she keep her room to herself. The Order had begun to protest this, in need of space, except for Sirius and Remus. The elder had merely winked at her before taking her side and flippantly reminding them there were plenty of guest and old family rooms if they would bother to clean them out. And Remus, while he had begun to watch her with covert concern, agreed the Muggleborn Witch needed some time to herself.

The twins were insufferable, continuously popping in and out of existence at random places in the house. Besides her bedroom. That was an off limits zone to all in the house. And because none of them really wanted to be on hers _and _Sirius's bad side, they let her be. It also helped that the complex wards she had placed, prevented such unwanted intrusions.

The older younger Black had only asked her once why he was defending her privacy. He teasingly asked if she were conducting experiments in the secret lab she had fashioned using his family's dark texts and Kreacher's secret stash of herbal remedies. And if so, could she allow him to test them all first? Hermione did inform him it had to do with certain restricted information pertaining to the "alliance."

Sirius Black was happy to add another thing to his list of reasons to aid her, while baffling his other house guests. The twins caught on to this quickly and soon all three were constantly on the watch for Hermione and her delicate sensibilities. She nearly hexed Fred, when he crossed the line at trying to feed her with her own fork.

Ron might have been a good confidant for the _save Harry _campaign. But every time he came close to Hermione, something strange and untoward would happen. He would either be assaulted by an unscratchable itch, lose his ability to form coherent sentences or worse, fall asleep during their conversations.

Hermione was too busy with "the plan" to worry over Ron. She didn't acknowledge the fact that not so long ago, she would have given anything for his attention. And she might have mentioned to younger, but older looking Sirius, of what went on during the Yule Ball last term.

Having had her fill of Weasley's, Hermione ducked into the kitchens and breathed a sigh of relief to find it empty. Mrs. Weasley was at it still in the dining room with the others. But no doubt she'd soon find some other endless task for the children to perform.

She headed right for the teapot, and was pleased to find it already steaming. "Lovely," she sighed and rested her fingers on the counter top.

"Precisely my sentiment," came a weary, familiar voice from behind her.

Hermione jumped, hand to her heart and eased the moment she saw him approach. "Oh, Professor Lupin! You startled me."

He smirked at her and she counted the fresh scars the new moon had inflicted on him as he replied, "Remus, if you please. And I tend to have that effect. But I am surprised Miss Granger, to have startled you. From what I've seen, you've become quite adept at sneaking on people as well."

Hermione smiled uneasily, catching his meaning and forced her grin to broaden. "Hermione, if you please, Remus. And nothing could possibly pass _your_ senses, I would imagine." She was baiting him and by the flash of amusement in his eye, he knew it.

He nodded slowly and reached around her to pour them both a cuppa, then said, "Touche, Hermione. Sugar?"

"Two, please."

They sipped quietly together. Hermione's mind traveled to Harry, then. She had left him behind with the Weasley's, but he didn't seem to mind. He had gotten over their supposed slight of him this past summer. It had been difficult enough for Hermione, not being able to hear from her best friend. And they had scarcely had a moment to themselves since he had arrived.

It reinforced the mission she and Sirius #2 had devised, reminded her of what they were fighting for. Harry was more than just affected by Cedric's death and his lonely summer, she was beginning to fear. Something about him was just..._off_. But he did cave in her arms one night before the fire, before Sirius #1 entered.

That had been the best night, when he regaled them all with tales of the Marauders and Lily. Remus had occasionally defended himself or corrected a few exaggerations along the way. And the twins' eyes popped with mutual exclamations of, "Wicked..."

"Hermione?" Remus spoke and the images dissipated like smoke that cleared and revealed his face. That ever present concern was back in place.

She had been avoiding that look every time he caught she and Sirius sharing a secret grin. She was not prepared to give him an answer and had steadfastly avoided him because of this reason. Out of everyone in the house, Remus was the only person she feared knew what she was currently hiding in her bedroom.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Hermione tread carefully. Better to stick as closely to the truth as possible. "I'm worried about Harry."

Remus paused, his eyes assessing her to the point she began to fear he might secretly be a closet Legillimens. "Yes, but..."

"Oi! Moony! Any tea left in there for me?" Sirius Black announced as he entered the kitchen. He took over their conversation, _thank Merlin_ and the room. This was just the sort of person Sirius Black was.

And he glanced briefly at Hermione, long enough for her to sense something else was going on. "Well? Moony you miserable sod, are you gonna leave your best mate high and dry? Or did I interrupt something?" He wagged his eyebrows and his gaze slinked back and forth between them.

Hermione rolled her eyes and set her cup down firmly. "Now _that _is ridiculous, Sirius. Why would Remus waste his time with, what was it you called me this morning, a prissy little twat?" She added a bit more disgust at the end, just for emphasis.

Sirius raised his brow as thought to hint, '_a bit over the top, love,' _but continued to play along. "Only because you called _me _a ridiculous child! I'll have you know I'm twice your age, Witch."

_Don't remind me..._

"That should only be more insulting to you, then, shouldn't it? One would think with age, one would learn a bit more restraint," she sweetly replied.

She had forgotten her reason for entering the kitchen in the first place until she eyed the nearby cupboard and sighed.

_That's right. Escape from Weasley's and Sweets for Sirius #2...But if he keeps at it like this, he can get his own damned chocolates._

"Padfoot," Remus asked, none too gently, "can I have a word with you?" he glanced pointedly at Hermione and she pretended not to notice.

"Sure, mate," Sirius replied and allowed himself to be led out of the kitchens by the shoulder. He turned his head at the last possible second and subtly winked at her before fashioning a serious look on his face.

Hermione shook her head, "...meddlesome Marauder..." and opened the cupboard door. It was much more extensive than it appeared, she had learned on her second day here, reaching deep into the bowels of the ancient house. Though she wasn't keen on going too far back. Mrs. Weasley had only restocked the first half of the storeroom and no telling what state Kreacher kept the rest of it.

She squinted into the darkness and whispered, "**lumos,**" before peering further. Meanwhile she tried not to analyze her strange conversation with Remus, and Sirius #1's interruption. With so much else on her mind, she had decided it was better not to worry over the little things.

_That Black has most definitely become a bad influence on you!_

She snatched the package and grinned with delight, only to hear a stirring of voices outside the door. Hermione cursed under her breath and in the same moment, was snatched by the waist with one hand, keeping her wand to her side. Another grabbed her mouth so she could not scream and the door to the cupboard clicked shut.

Mrs. Weasley had been unable to fix this particular door and once shut, could not be opened from inside.

_Bugger!_ Hermione winced and fought her assailant as she was pulled deeper into the stores. The voices outside grew louder, though muffled and a low voice hissed in her ear, "Quiet or you'll give the whole operation away!"

Hermione licked his palm and was satisfied when he removed his hand. "Sirius," she hissed, "what do you think you're doing down here? You know Mad-Eye's liable to come in at any time," she finished with a whisper and grumbled when he refused to loosen his grip. "Could you let me go, please?"

He chuckled against her ear, and the vibration went all the way to that oh-so-dangerous, special place. "Why? Maybe I like holding you? And maybe," he continued, wickedly, "you like it more than you know you should."

"I most certainly do not!" she hissed, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her. She must admit, it was becoming increasingly difficult not to think of the time traveler _that _way. She was fifteen but she wasn't a child anymore. Thanks to her own dabbling with Time Turners in Third Year, Hermione's body was _technically _sixteen by all accounts.

The idea of kissing Sirius Black with his fine older gentleman clothes and rough, unshaven face and sexy...

_Wait! Stop there, Granger! _

The honest to Merlin truth of it was, things were changing between them, both of them, all three of them, she thought with dizzying clarity.

The voices drew closer to the cupboard and _oh yes_, Mrs. Weasley was opening the cupboard!

Hermione twisted pushed her bum unwittingly against his front in her effort to keep them concealed. And instantly she felt something very solid pressing against the curve of her lower back.

"Are you turned on by this, seriously?" she screeched under her breath. He only chuckled silently and dragged her even tighter against him.

"Your fault, you mad Witch..." Sirius groaned against her ear and she shushed him.

"Quiet! Someone's coming." They waited with baited breath as the handle to the cupboard turned. Light came from the other side and poured into the darkness and halted a meter before their entangled limbs. Mrs. Weasley paused and twisted her head at the sound of a light pop and explosion outside the door.

"Fred George Weasley! NO FIREWORKS IN THIS HOUSE!"

The twins laughed as she slammed the cupboard door and rushed to boxed their ears, from the sound of it. They protested, "Mummy Dearest!"

"Don't you _Mummy Dearest _me! Get on, you two! Back to scrubbing the landing!"

Hermione sighed and rested her head against Sirius's chest. It was that bloody shower's fault, she decided. That was the source of their current woes. If only she hadn't let him con her into accompanying him. She might have managed a complex locking charm and blamed it on the house ghost. But he reminded her that they both knew the consequences if he was caught, so join him she had.

_They stayed up plotting until dawn, when Sirius exclaimed he was tired of smelling like the preserved troll foot in the landing and demanded proper primping rights. _

_Hermione grudgingly agreed after sharing the room with him for so many days that cleansing charms really did only go so far. So, with a heavy tome in hand and stern expression framed by her frizzy hair, she disallusioned him and together, they sneaked into the bathroom across the way. _

_She sank her bottom on the toilet seat and pointed at the bath and its curtain without looking. He took his time stripping and even teased, "Fancy a glance, Granger?"_

_"Shut up, you," Hermione grumbled whilst turning a page. She must have read the same one at least ten times._

_Sirius chuckled and threw his shirt onto her lap, "Last chance, love."_

_"Just get in the shower!" she hissed and waited until she heard the sound of water pouring to peel away the musky smelling garment. She was blushing furiously by this point and kept her eyes firmly on the text. She had told herself it was detrimental for this part of their plan to go without a hitch. But she couldn't seem to read past this one paragraph. _

_Sirius hummed low and she was surprised to find he had a pleasant singing voice, unlike hers that could make dogs cry, she thought. Steam wafted around them and soon her clothes stuck uncomfortably to her body. She tugged at the collar of her jumper and huffed a sigh when her hair became a massive puff ball around her head. _

_Sirius chuckled again at her sigh, with a low rumble that made her toes curl quite unladylike. Hermione was mortified. _

_No! Sirius Bloody Black does not make you feel hot and bothered! _

_It was just the steam, she decided. And to prove her point, she glanced over at the outline of his finely sculpted frame through the opaque curtain. Her heart stopped and plunged in her chest._

_Oh buggar me..._

_"Maybe you should strip off a few of those layers, love, if the heat's bothering you so badly. After all, you are bathing after me, yeah?"_

Hermione was brought back to the present by Sirius's boyish laughter.

"I can't believe those twins! Thank Merlin for them!"

She rolled her eyes and used the moment to twist out of his arms and round to face him. She was blushing even deeper as she recalled the recent shower debacle, and in no mood for his teasing. Snatching his chocolates off the nearby shelf, she shoved them into his arms and said, "There! You've got your sweets, now off to the room with you, number two."

Light came from his wand wordlessly, to reveal his furrowed brow. He let the sweets drop in favor of snatching her by the arm and moving round to block her way. "What the hell did I do?" Though his eyes were still troubled and faintly darkened by lust, enough that she didn't take his hurt look seriously.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she scoffed, "You really have to ask? You're just like number one...would have thought death might knock some sense into you."

Sirius pause and then frowned, "Number one? Wait a sec, you called me number two? Are you seriously giving us sodding _numbers_ now? And why am I number two?" He pouted and let her go with a scowl.

Secretly, Hermione was pleased the mood had shifted again. Gone was that pulse pounding, heavy need, replaced with something more familiar. This Sirius, she could manage.

She narrowed her eyes. "Because, you're from the future, for starters and not from my timeline. And because at the moment, I'm more pleased with his conduct than yours. Mabye you should learn a thing or two from your _younger _self, old man."

Throwing his age at him was her best defense, though they were beyond the point where that mattered, she admitted to herself.

"Hey! I don't appreciate you throwing _him _at me all the bloody time, you know," he said, stepping into her space and wagging a finger at her with narrowed gray eyes. "Thanks to you and _him _and your fuckin' _alliance_, I keep getting new memories of things that didn't happen the first time. Makes me feel a little unhinged..." he confessed sheepishly as his anger faded.

Hermione grinned faintly and patted his head, "Unless you want to end up back in that Veil, I suggest you get used to it, Black."

His smile was dangerous enough on his younger older looking counterpart, but on this young looking Sirius, the effect on her woman parts was devastating. In a higher voice she announced, "How did you get down here in the first place, if I may ask."

"Kreacher helped me down so I could snatch some more to eat while he was busy with _you _lot. Interesting bit, now. I found something of Reggie's in Kreacher's things back here. Kind of makes me wonder if he was such a dirty wanker after all." And from his jeans pocket he pulled out a necklace with a large locket attached to it. An _S _was emblazed on its surface and either it was her imagination, or the locket started to _whisper _things to them both.

Seeing her expression he nodded, "Yep, that's what I thought. Dark magic, something really bad too and really special or Kreacher wouldn't have guarded it all these years. But the old elf and I have a new understanding. Told him I'd help 'finish Reggie's mission." He laughed and shoved the locket back in his pocket.

"Sirius, I think we'd best keep that somewhere hidden," she said warily. "And if it is a dark artifact, you shouldn't wear it too much.

"You're right," he shivered. "Gives me the heebies anyway...So...what do you say we take advantage of this cupboard?" He wagged his eyebrows suggestively and Hermione snorted and shoved him back.

"You're a disgusting pig, Black."

"And you're a prissy little twat, Granger," he said with a wink.

Hermione was still pulling cobwebs and righting her clothes when the door suddenly opened and Harry Potter met her on the other side.

Hermione's mouth worked silently a moment before she tucked her hair behind her ear and held out a sweet she had pilfered. "Chocolate? I hear it helps," she said sheepishly.

Harry glared and peeked past her a moment before staring at the bar she was offering. "Hermione, what were you doing in there? I've been looking for you for the last _hour_." His green eyes lingered on her mussed hair and jumper. Again he looked past her, "I thought I heard voices. Were you alone?"

Hermione giggled and said, "Don't be silly, Harry. I just went looking for some treats and the door shut and I was locked in. Then I couldn't find my wand and it was so dark I was just talking to myself..." she trailed off when his eyes widened.

"You don't _have _a sweet tooth, Hermione."

She froze, smile in place, certain she had been found out.

Before he could say more, the twins popped into existence on either side of Harry and took the chocolate for themselves, calling, "Finders keepers, Potter."

Harry raced after them, "Hey! That's mine!"

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_**Review: Idle Writer of Crack-hope you enjoyed that one bit. You know what I'm talking about ;)**_


	10. Question of Brilliance

_**A/N: **It's amazing how quickly time can pass! To all of you who have read and followed I owe you an apology. I hate it when I get into a story and then it is suddenly stagnant. I've been focusing on ADSM and more recently the sequel, ATDV, but I haven't abandoned this story. _

_Many thanks to "I Kneel for Loki," "Crazy anime chick since 1993" and "dream18shadows" for the awesome reviews! You three are the reason this chapter is here :)_

_Now on with the show..._

_Last time: _

**_Sirius & Hermione have a plan..._**

* * *

**Chapter 10**

**Question of Brilliance**

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It was raining and for reasons Padfoot couldn't explain, he wanted to transform and run out in it, then rub himself all over Hermione. Sirius Black grinned as he carried the thought further to envision her repulsed reaction. He knew secretly she would love it, much as she denied being a dog person. Crookshanks meowed in his hand just then and Sirius rolled his eyes when Hermione bent to peek inside the half-kneazle's carrier.

"I can manage just fine without you nannying over me, you know," he reminded the Witch. Sometimes he wished he didn't look quite so young as she. She might listen to him a bit better. Though she never had before, he remembered with fond and lingering frustration. Hermione blew a stray curl from her face and he watched, fascinated as it insisted on springing back into its proper place.

Her eyes sparkled in spite of her harsh tone. One of the things he was loving more and more about her, was her inability to remain angry with him.

_Very useful sometimes, that natural charisma. _

"You barely managed to take care of Buckbeak, and you're a..." she paused to glance around the street corner they stood propped against, "a _you-know-what_."_  
_

"I prefer Animagus," he said.

Hermione stiffened immediately, her cloak shrouding her petite frame and making her deceptively childlike. He'd caught more than one glance at her in their cramped living quarters. He couldn't help it. He _was _Sirius Black and it had been a very long time since any Witch had captured and held his interest to such a pitifully overwhelming degree.

_Longer than she's been alive, you perv, _he thought with a cheeky grin.

"Sirius! You can't go around Muggle London talking about magic!" she hissed and jabbed him with her finger.

Sirius rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "You're just jealous you haven't learned how yet." He grinned when she scoffed and added, "Come on, love. You and I both know you'll spend all your secret free time researching the topic, if you haven't already." He chuckled when she stamped her foot and began to look to the alley around them.

"I still can't believe Dumbledore convinced the Order to let me leave unguarded. Or that I managed to sneak _you _past Mad-Eye." She continued her monologue, mentioning Dumbledore and Aurors and Mr. Snakey Face.

Sirius had learned long ago not to interrupt her when she started spouting off like this. The pack Hermione had transfigured for him was one of the many leftovers she had pilfered from Grimmauld Place during Mrs. Weasley's impromptu summer cleaning. He recognized it, actually as one of Reggie's old things. The thought sobered him when he recalled the locket trapped in a special pouch even deeper in the pockets. He'd been reluctant to hold onto it for long periods of time made him feel positively wonky. As if it wasn't bad enough, having to live with his younger, less attractive self, who had a habit of making new memories he hadn't recalled before the Veil. It left his head feeling constantly muddy. In fact his head was so filled with memories and things he couldn't remember which of his two selves had said it, he felt the need to interrupt.

"You know, this just proves I'm right again," he announced with a superior tilt of his chin. Hermione rolled her eyes and huffed over the interruption.

"Whenever I begin to find you remotely tolerable, you have to go and ruin it with your ego."

He jabbed her in the shoulder and took a step closer, enjoying the way her cheeks flushed in the morning light. "I'll have you know I'm a damned good authority on lots of things."

Her eyes widened imperceptibly and her lips twitched at the corners. "Please don't let me stop you from proving your brilliance, wise and might Merlin."

Sirius felt a faint stab at the mention of his best mate's second name. Prongs had always hated that name and had been known to threaten lives over it on more than one occasion. He brushed it aside, hoping she wouldn't notice. Tipping off his fingers was made difficult by the cargo in his hands and arms but he still made it look effortless. "Besides my intelligence boosting god-like appearance, I was a damned good Auror, became an Animagus at fifteen, went into the veil and back..."

He had her right where he wanted her, he could tell. She was shaking her head but keeping her chin tucked, as if he couldn't see her smile working its way through. So he pressed on, "But you want to know the one thing that proves why I'm always right?"

Rain began to fall in a light shower over their heads, transforming her already poofy curls into an untameable mane. He fought the urge to follow through with his original plan, only this time, he intended on transforming back into a Wizard so he could bury his face in her hair.

She glanced up at him and then froze, her eyes widening and her smile seeping through against the rain. "Besides the fact that you rely on dumb luck and instinct rather than sense and knowledge?"

He reached up and tapped her rain spattered nose, smirking when she took in a quick telling breath. "Did I not once say you were the brightest Witch of your age?"

She sputtered, "I-I don't see what _that _has to do with anything."

Though he could clearly see she did, that she knew exactly what he was implying. That she was his salvation and always had been, as the other Sirius was obviously beginning to understand. He suddenly felt extremely eager to get to Hogwarts and was ever the more thankful Dumbledore insisted on their early arrival. The sooner he got Hermione away from _his _mangy old paws the better.

_Only room for one of us in her life, mate, _he thought with a cheeky grin.

"What are you smirking at?" she said with a grimace.

"Ah! I see you have arrived early as the bird that caught the worm," a wispy, deceptively gentle voice announced.

Both of them turned to face Albus Dumbledore and Sirius couldn't exactly place whether he was overjoyed or annoyed at the interruption. Much as he loved the old Headmaster for letting the Marauders get away with practical murder, he'd learned later what a manipulative old bastard the Supreme Mugwump was.

Hermione sighed with something like relief and Sirius cringed at the forced perkiness in her voice.

"Professor! We didn't want to be late," she said.

"Ah, never fear Miss Granger. I long ago perfected the art of arriving fashionably late, whether I intend to or not. Come," he said, ushering her with an outstretched hand, "shall we be off, then?"

Hermione nodded and Sirius watched in fascination as her slick curls bounced with added spring. She took the Headmaster's hand and Sirius frowned as he met Albus's expression over her short head. There was keen knowing and almost eager curiosity in the old Wizard's expression. He could only imagine the questions he was about to be asked and he wondered if it had been so wise for them to include Albus in his secret, even if she had been selective in her information.

But then Hermione glanced over her shoulder entreatingly and his paranoia faded and he smiled as he clasped her small hand in his. He felt the pressure build in his ears and his body twisting inside out as they were Apparated inside Hogwarts grounds, the Headmaster's chamber naturally.

A sinking, nervous feeling returned to his gut as he surveyed the stones that would house him for the rest of the year.

* * *

Sirius's obvious wonder over Apparating right in the middle of school grounds, was not lost on Hermione or Albus Dumbledore. Though she was trying desperately _not _to notice his surprise. She had explained the process of their transportation earlier that morning, no doubt as he stared at her breasts or some other inane thing. Hermione had grown used to his penchant for zoning out during her more tedious but necessary explanations, hoping that somewhere in that nutshell subconscious mind of his, he was storing it up for later.

Their time together in Grimmauld Place had forced an unnatural bond between she and the time traveling Wizard. One she was loathe to acknowledge or examine at the moment. Sirius had argued heavily with her over including Dumbledore in their plans, but she hadn't the experience or reason not to trust her Headmaster. And secretly, she felt a bit important enough for Dumbledore to reply to her Owl so quickly and then arrange for their meeting at the station.

Though she hadn't bothered explaining it to Sirius, she'd always felt a tad slighted over how much attention the Headmaster gave to Harry. She wasn't jealous, per say. She wouldn't trade her burden for her best friend's for all the galleons and quid in the world. But it had been difficult, being the Muggleborn friend of Harry Potter at times, and if anything, she felt alienated from many of her classmates and professors because of it. They preferred to blame it on her obsession with the library and learning, naturally. No one bothered to ask her if she wasn't using her books as a refuge, or that she felt useless if she couldn't at least offer something to the "Golden Trio".

She hadn't been listening to Dumbledore and Sirius was actually carrying the conversation, she realized with a start.

"I'm quite proficient with Transfiguration, Albus," Sirius retorted.

Dumbledore actually laughed. "I have not forgotten. I do believe a pair of my old spectacles never did transfigure quite right after you tampered with them..."

"Oh, ehm, that must have been Prongs or Wormtail..." he stopped midsentence to glower at the floor and clench his fists. Hermione reached up to cover his fist with her hand, understanding his fury. She hadn't been there the night Wormtail betrayed his friends, but she remembered the Shrieking Shack and Sirius's agony. Either memory would have been painful.

Dumbledore's voice was gentler as he added, "It is for this and other reasons I have agreed with Miss Granger's outlandish proposal. We have not had an assistant since Minerva's addition to the staff..."

Hermione tried desperately to turn her laugh into a cough, and frowned when Sirius winked briefly at her. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled from behind his half-moon spectacles.

He continued, "No doubt she'll be glad of your aid. Again, I hope you understand my reasons for involving the Ministry. I am most eager to help you and Miss Granger in your mission, but we must proceed with caution. If Tom were ever to learn of the properties behind the Veil, or its time altering capabilities..."

"I understand, Albus. I may look like a teenager but I'm still an old dog inside," he said with a winning grin. Hermione sighed lightly and shook her head.

"Excellent! I've already arranged for Poddy to attest to your lineage. No doubt when your younger, older self learns of your claimed parentage, he'll need to see this record," Dumbeldore said with a chuckle.

Hermione was exasperated by the maniacal grin that took over her Sirius's handsome face. He seemed awfully pleased to disrupt his other self's already miserable life.

_It **was** your idea, Hermione,_ she reminded herself.

"Oh I have every hope he will," Sirius said as he pulled Hermione along with them.

She let him lead her without question. At first the habit had annoyed rather than flattered her. Most girls would have been over the moon with the attention of such a Wizard. He was tall, broad shouldered and muscle bound with a narrow waist and a firm bum. His arms were well toned and a light dusting of dark hair littered his chest but it was his smile and his eyes that were the most devastating, along with his incessant habit of pushing his long, curled hair from his eyes, while looking at her through his lashes nervously.

Hermione told herself these were all products of his boredom. She had never wanted a pretty man at her side, possibly because she was well aware of her lack of certain feminine graces or "assets." So she pushed him away. Somehow his fingers always ended up right back where they were, toying with her hair, teasing the hem of her jumper or skirt. Now she was so used to the presence of his hand, she let him guide her without question.

Only when Dumbledore paused to eye their joined hands did she try to slip away. He was right. It might have been okay when they were alone and she might have even secretly begun to enjoy the feel of another person's warm skin against her own. But now they were in Hogwarts. Now they had a job to do, to keep Harry safe with the Ministry increasingly meddling in their affairs.

Dumbledore showed them where Sirius's office would be located, near Gryffindor tower, though tutoring sessions would best be held in the library. His quarters were located behidn the office, and Hermione wondered if he had recently added the rooms magically, or they were another leftover of past days.

Either way, her mind began to wander back to Grimmauld Place against her will. Harry had been so confused and upset as to why she was leaving early. She felt guilty for leaving him behind when he was obviously still grieving over Cedric's death and Voldemort's return.

"_Harry, it's for the best. Dumbledore thinks we'll be less of a target if we don't arrive together."_

_"But I don't understand why he needs _you _Hermione!" Harry burst. He had been increasingly short tempered since his arrival, she noted with concern. _

_"Harry, there are...things you don't understand," she began but he interrupted her._

_"Then help me understand!" he shouted, and Hermione wondered why he sounded so jealous._

_"Harry," Remus Lupin placed a hand on her best mate's shoulder and he calmed, "What Hermione's trying to say is that she is Muggleborn and in some ways, under a greater threat. We believe she'll be a target for You-Know-Who."_

_Harry flung off his former Professor's touch and stalked off, "I could have protected you too!" _

_"Harry," Remus called after him with an apologetic, typically sad smile for her. _

_Hermione dug her nails into her fists and listened to the sound of their voices in the next room, until a sheet of blank parchment slid over the kitchen table to rest in front of her. She lifted her chin up quickly and was shocked to find the aged, still handsome face of Sirius Black in front of her. She couldn't help her smile, even though the other Sirius, the one waiting upstairs had warned her not to. She didn't see anything wrong with a smile. And oddly as she now found it, this Sirius was her friend. _

_"What is this?" she asked, gesturing to the parchment. _

_The older Wizard smirked in a way eerily reminiscent to his teenaged self. "Just a little going away present. I just heard you were leaving..." he paused to frown and pick at the wooden table. "So I only just charmed it. James and I used it sometimes during classes. I have another sheet that corresponds to this one. Whenever we write on them, the message will appear on the other. This way you can keep me informed on my godson and help me keep my sanity."_

_She smiled as she touched the parchement and felt the tingle of magic trickle into her fingers. "And what do I get out of this?"_

_"Amusement," he quipped, then added gently, "And maybe I've grown used to your wit these last few days, Granger."_

_"Sounds like this benefits you more than I," she teased. _

_"Indeed." __He smiled, but there was raw pain in his eyes she had never become acquainted with, in either of his forms. _

__"Well, what do you think?" Sirius asked her, dragging her out of the recent past to find an amused expression on his expectant face. "Whoa, you really went for a ride for a while, there, love."

She frowned and looked for the Headmaster only to find him gone. They were alone in Sirius's new private quarters. "Wha-where's the Professor?"

Sirius shrugged, "Buying more melon drops? How should I know? He said for me to tell you your trunk is already in your room. Though, I dunno Granger. I think we should keep taking showers together at least. Think you're gonna miss having me as your flatmate."

Hermione slapped him in the chest, halfheartedly, but as she looked up into his slate gray eyes, she wondered what he thought of the parchment his other self had given her. She felt a sudden need to plunder the restricted section for some of the more dangerous affects of time travel. McGonnagal had never spoke of consequences like this, only inevitable paradoxes and madness. One thing was for certain. With two Sirius Blacks in her life, she was well on her way.

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_**Review**: If you fancy :)_


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